Surprise Superiority
by ifuseekwndrland
Summary: Seemingly plot-less, but kind of cute. CMxEN


**A/N:** This will be completely AU, IMO. [Seemingly plot less too, if you want to call it that I have only watched Degrassi a handful of times since the sixth season started and my sister's just kind of kept me up to date since then. I just stopped watching in hopes that something good would happen. I'd say it but then I'd have to put a spoiler thing up, and I don't feel like it right now. : So, I'll be watching again when it comes back on. COMMENTS ARE WELCOME 

Hearing my phone ring off the hook gave me some sense of superiority for some reason. I can hear Marco yelling uncontrollably, attempting to get me to answer it, but I ignore him. A grin cracks across my face and I examine my finger-nails. They're adorned with chipped black nail-polish.

[I like it.

The phone stops ringing, Marco stops screaming, and all I hear now is the television in the other room blaring an infomercial for some stupid exercise machine. I then hear Paige scold Marco, "Pick up that phone to order that and that will be the last thing you ever say." she said and I bite my lip to stifle the unnatural giggle that burrows into my throat.

Shaking my head I hear an IM ding on my laptop, sighing, whoever it the culprit was, was probably the same person that tried to call me. I ignore the IM's and lay back on the bed. Turning my head, I watch the candle flicker in and out. There's a cool breeze coming in from the window, and I suspect that the candle will burn out soon.

_Five…_

_Four…_

_Three…_

_Two…_

_BINGO!_

_'It's out like shout'_. That stupid clichéd saying pops into my head and I growl to myself. I can hear Marco saying something like that. The IM's continue and continue and I finally crack before standing up and walking over to my desk, ready to give the stupid IM'er a reaming of their life, but my hand falters and my jaw drops.

_Elle, answer my messages._

_STOP IGNORING ME._

_Okay, Elle, I know we didn't leave off on the best of terms, but you need to answer my messages before I snap. Seriously._

_Okay, fine. I'll tell you now, I'm coming back for a break from my Rehab stint. I'll be home tomorrow, so, send me your address. I think we need to talk._

I begin to type out the address like the good best friend I am, but then I backspace and type something totally different.

_I would not give you the address to where I lived if you were the last man on the face of the planet. You hurt me beyond repair, Craig. And I have finally gotten my life back together, so stop calling and stop IM'ing._

I press ENTER and my heart kind of stops for a minute. I get another message back from him saying;

_You're being ridiculous, Ellie. I just want to talk to you. Please…I really need this. Bring your stupid boyfriend Justin, or Jacob, or whatever the hell his name is. I mean. NO. HARM._

Sighing, I reply hopelessly and quite depressingly;

_I broke up with Jessie. But that still doesn't mean I'll meet you or give our my personal information to you._

He takes a long-ass time to reply to that. But he finally does and I snort. Like a real pig-snort because I try to keep my laughter from erupting from my chest.

_Listen, I'll jump off this building if you don't give me your address._

I start typing again;

_No, you won't._

He replies;

_Yes, I will._

Again, I reply;

_No…you won't. Now stop being stupid. _

He replies;

_I'll stop being stupid when you give me the ing address._

I wince even at his use of poor language over the IM and sigh before rubbing my temples. "MARCO!" I scream. And I hear running foot-steps. In fact, there's two pair. When the door opens and both Paige and Marco appear in the doorway, which is a feat within itself, I glare. "I said Marco, not Marco and Paige." Paige frowns, huffs, and stomps back to the living room.

Marco shuts the door, "What's wrong? You look like you swallowed a hot chili pepper or something." I point to my screen and his eyes move back and forth over the messages. "You have got to be kidding me." he replies flatly.

I shake my head and he starts laughing. 

[Like really laughing, like one of those belly-laughs that little kids do when their parents tickle them or blow raspberries on their bellies.[

I give him a strong glare and he stops.

"Give him the address. It must be important if he claims he's going to throw himself off of a building." he says, smiles, and leaves the premises of my bedroom. I open my mouth a few times, resembling a fish.

[He just leaves, just like that. THANKS PAL!

Hurrumphing, I start typing out the address, wait a minute and then press ENTER.

_Thank You, Elle. You will not regret this._

And then he signs off.

And then I wonder, Rehab facilities have really gotten better if they're letting patients IM with people on the outside world, I mean. They could be IM'ing their drug dealers or something. But then, a logical thought pops into my head, they probably have certain lists for people and it all gets down to the nitty-gritty on computer science and I will not be straining my brain on that tonight.

[I need sleep.

[Psycho Drug-Addicted Craig Manning, whom I fell in love with for some out-of-my-mind reason is coming to talk to me tomorrow, from Calgary for God sakes.

I sign off of the IM Messenger, shut my laptop, blow out the other candles [so that this entire house doesn't burn down and kill me because then I'll miss my 'ohsoexciting' talk with Craig and bury myself under the covers.


End file.
